


Mamapon

by yoshizora



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 19:58:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13255527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshizora/pseuds/yoshizora
Summary: Mòrag comes upon a seemingly abandoned baby Nopon and takes it under her care as the group searches for its parents. Things get a little complicated when it grows attached to her, though.





	Mamapon

**Author's Note:**

> i always envisioned that Mòrag is more of the group leader when it comes to side quests instead of Rex, even tho he's always the protag. idk, it makes more sense to me that Mòrag would take charge even for more menial tasks.  
> also, this was inspired by a baby Nopon i found in Goldmouth flailing around on a walkway all by itself lmao.

“Brighid.”

“Yes, Lady Mòrag?”

“What is this.”

“I believe it is a baby Nopon.”

It is indeed a baby Nopon, flailing about and crying on the floor. Mòrag stares down at it as if it could explode at any moment.

“It seems to be rather upset.”

“Indeed.”

The Nopon lets out a high-pitched shriek and violently rocks back and forth like a turtle stuck on its back. No one else is around nor paying any mind to it, but then a grown Nopon passes by and Mòrag quickly steps in his path to stop him.

“Excuse me. Is this your child?” She gestures to the flailing baby.

“Hmmm. Nope. Never seen before in life!” The Nopon quickly maneuvers around Mòrag and continues on his way before she can attempt to press him for more information. She sighs and looks back down to the baby, lips tightly pressed together in a thin line.

Unattended Nopon children are a common sight around Goldmouth. They’re all over the place like… vermin? No, vermin is definitely the wrong descriptor. They’re all over the place like _something_ , from the walkways to the rafters to the high beams of the ship that jut out precariously over the Cloud Sea. However, this Nopon is clearly too young to be left alone, and Mòrag’s conscience won’t allow her to leave it.

Grimacing, she kneels down and awkwardly places one gloved hand over the Nopon’s head. It hiccups and stops crying to stare at her with big, watery eyes, its little mouth trembling.

“That’s right. No need to cry.” Mòrag pats its little tuft of hair. She carefully sets it upright on its nubby legs. “We shall find your mother for you, I can promise you that.”

“Lady Mòrag,” Brighid quickly interrupts her, eyeing the baby Nopon with some measure of uncomfortable disdain. “Perhaps its parents will be returning to this spot. It wouldn’t look very good for us if we were accused of an attempted kidnapping of a Nopon child.”

“But what sort of parents would leave their child in the middle of a walkway?” Mòrag frowns. “… However, I see your point. Very well! Let’s stay here with it and wait, then.”

Brighid can’t hold back a sigh. So much for a relaxing day of shopping.

And so an hour passes. Then another. Then another.

Mòrag makes no attempt to pick up the Nopon child at all during that time, so it settles with clinging to her greaves and drooling on the polished metal. All the while she stands diligently to the side of the walkway, hands folded behind her back and chin up, gaze narrowing at anyone who walks by.

But the most they get are curious glances, and none of the Nopon passerby look at the baby Nopon with any sort of recognition.

“It’s getting dark,” Brighid comments, stretching her arms. She could’ve gone off to shop on her own, but she’d willingly chosen to stay with Mòrag and the Nopon in spite of her rather sour mood. The Nopon is still drooling on Mòrag’s boot. Brighid wrinkles her nose at it.

“Yes…” Mòrag’s shoulders sag with the realization that they’d likely waited around for absolutely nothing. The brazier in the Residential District had been lit and the sky outside is beginning to deepen into dark blues. As if it knows that something is wrong and it’d likely been abandoned, the baby Nopon begins to whimper and falls onto its back, slowly beginning to flail itself into another crying fit.

Brighid instantly recoils.

“We have no choice! I can _not_ leave this child here by itself!” Mòrag crouches down and reaches for the Nopon, but yanks her hands back when it begins thrashing and wailing. She helplessly turns to Brighid. “Brighid! What do I do to make it stop?!”

“Try patting its head, like you did the first time?”

It doesn’t stop crying. In fact, it cries even harder, shrieking so loudly that Brighid’s afraid someone’s going to pass by and see this scene and think Mòrag’s trying to eat it, or something. And yet, somehow, no one’s around. All the Nopon must be gathering in the Residential District for dinner. For… dinner. Ah.

“I think it may be hungry.”

“Ah— of course!” Mòrag nods. “Brighid. Take the Nopon. We’ll be bringing it along with us.”

She balks. “I don’t want to pick it up!”

“Brighid?!”

“I might burn it, won’t I?!” She holds up her hands, palms out. “If I’m not careful, that is…”

“Brighid, please…!”

“I’m sorry, Lady Mòrag!”

“ _Meeeehhh!!_ ” The Nopon wails.

Mòrag yanks at her collar in frustration and gingerly reaches for it again, casting a dour look at Brighid for a split second. Thankfully, the Nopon stops flailing when Mòrag manages to pluck it off the ground with both hands, but its cries are as loud as ever. She holds it out at arm’s length, even leaning back somewhat. Brighid’s never seen her so uncomfortable before. It’d almost be comical if Brighid weren’t wearing a nearly identical expression.

“It’s so _loud._ ” Brighid covers her ears.

“Its parents must be at the Residential District,” Mòrag tries to speak without outright yelling over the Nopon’s cries. “If they aren’t…”

Brighid definitely doesn’t like where this is leading.

“We’ll care for it until this issue is resolved.”

Damnit.

 

* * *

 

Zeke’s terrible luck must have rubbed off onto them during their travels, because none of the Nopon at the Res. District recognize the baby nor do any of them offer to take it off Mòrag’s hands to act as temporary babysitters in their stead. Not that Mòrag would have requested such a favor from of any of them, Brighid figures, because she always has to be so noble and selfless that it sometimes hurts.

And it does hurt. Brighid’s ears hurt, to be more precise. Maybe that’s why the Nopon seemed relieved when they finally left with the baby.

It hasn’t stop crying even when a female Nopon graciously shared some leftovers. In the end, all Mòrag can think to do is awkwardly tuck it under her arm and pat its head with her other hand. The Nopon sort of quiets down, but the headpatting clearly isn’t enough to completely placate it. As a last ditch effort, they spend more time wandering the emptying bazaar as the night drags on to the later hours, but the search continues to be fruitless.

“ _TORA._ ” Mòrag bellows once they’re at the inn, apparently beyond the point of caring about disturbing other sleeping guests. The door to the room he’s sharing with the boys opens, and Tora emerges, startled.

“Meh-meh?!”

“How does one go about silencing a crying Nopon.” She grits her teeth and holds the baby out at Tora’s face.

“H-Hold on one second! Where Mòrag get a babypon?! Kidnapping?!”

“I told you…” Brighid mutters her breath.

“Hey. Hey. What’s all this damn _noise?”_ Zeke and Rex come out next, the latter yawning and the former sporting a very unflattering bedhead.

“A bloody murder, from the sounds of it.” A very disgruntled Nia chimes in, poking her head out from the adjacent room. Mòrag can see Mythra and Pandoria peering from behind her.

Then everyone’s speaking at once, over each other, loud enough to drown out the baby Nopon’s cries. Mythra and Pyra are interchanging places too fast, and Nia’s complaining about the noise while Dromarch attempts to placate her, and Tora’s still trying to ask how Mòrag had managed to kidnap a babypon, Rex is so, so confused, and Zeke’s now making an assortment of faces at the Nopon and only frightening it even more to the point where it can’t even muster the breath to cry anymore—

“ _Mamapon!!”_ the baby shrieks its first coherent word. Everyone falls silent. It tries to turn in Mòrag’s grasp to look at her tearfully, desperately waving its wings at her. “Mamapon! Mamapoooon!”

Mòrag whips around, her hopes rising then plummeting in less than a second when she sees no Nopon woman rushing over to claim her baby from this group of weirdos. There’s no one but her. A second plummeting sensation hits her guts when the Nopon calls out _Mamapon_ again, and she feels its wings lightly slapping against her wrists. She looks to Brighid, silently pleading for help, but Brighid is just as flabbergasted and can’t offer any helpful words.

“Mamapon!”

“… But I’m not a Nopon,” Mòrag finally says, exasperated.

 

* * *

 

“Babypon are veeeery impressionable. Especially at this one’s tiny age,” Tora sagely nods. They’re grouped together at a table in Rumbletum Canteen, and Mòrag is helplessly cradling the Nopon in her arms because she doesn’t know what else to do with it, and it had begun to cry whenever anyone else tried to hold it. It’s quiet for now, contentedly dozing off after being given some food to eat. “Long story short, if not careful, then Babypon will imprint onto Mòrag for real! It delicate situation, indeed. Better to find real Mamapon as soon as possible, for both Babypon and Mòrag’s sanity.”

“That can’t be right. A Nopon can’t imprint on a _human_ so easily. … Can it?” Zeke tilts his head, and Pandoria mimics the gesture.

“Yeah. I mean, even if we consider this totally hypothetical situation where Mòrag ends up adopting this kiddo for real and raises it as her own child—“

Mòrag shoots a glare at Pandoria.

“— he’s obviously gonna realize something’s up when he’s old enough to figure out that he’s a Nopon and his mother’s an Ardainian.”

“That not matter! Bonds of feeling and family more important than blood ties, to most Nopon in general.” Tora says. “Also, must point out, Babypon is girlypon.”

“Oh.” Pandora tilts her head in the other direction, then shrugs. “Well, I had a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right.”

“Y’think she can at least tell us her mother’s name?” Rex asks. “Or what she looks like? Otherwise looking for her’s probably gonna be like searching for a needle in the Cloud Sea.”

Before Tora can point out that the baby’s obviously too young to speak in full sentences, Mòrag is holding the Nopon up at face level. She gently shakes her.

“Child. You _must_ give us information about your mother, if we are to help you.”

“Mamapon! Mamapon!” The Nopon wiggles its nubby arms.

“… It was worth a shot.” Mòrag puts the Nopon back down on her lap.

“We’ll put up posters on the bulletin board and try asking around Goldmouth again tomorrow,” Brighid says. “People come in and out all the time. There’s a chance the child’s parents had simply… gone somewhere, and have yet to return.”

“I would have _words_ for them, for leaving their child alone so carelessly,” Mòrag mutters.

“By the way, I think the kid’s gotta have a proper name if we’re gonna be helping her out,” Zeke says, rubbing his chin. “We can’t just keep calling her ‘child’ or ‘babypon’ or whatever, right?”

“Yes, we can, because this is not our child,” Dromarch says. “Our only goal is to reunite her with her mother. A name would only increase the risk of attachment and cause unnecessary grief when the inevitable farewell arrives. ”

“Dromarch, I assure you that I have absolutely no intention of getting attached to this child.” Mòrag flatly says. The Nopon jumps up and down on her lap, spins around, and cuddles against her with a happy little chirp. That— augh, she can feel the baby drooling against the front of her uniform.

“Haha, I dunno if even the Flamebringer would be able to hold out for that long…” Zeke’s grinning with a weirdly knowing look, and Mòrag suddenly feels the urge to punch him, or something.

“No worries, friends! Tora and Poppi here to help, as fellow Nopon and honorary-Nopon!” Tora puffs out his chest. “Poppi! Initiate Babysitter Mode!”

“Poppi has no such mode installed, Masterpon. Such mode does not exist at all, in fact.”

“M-Meh-meh, Poppi supposed to play along!”

“We can just keep calling her… Babypon?” Pyra suggests. “If keeping her nameless really is that necessary.”

“Yes. Babypon it is.” Mòrag grimaces.

There’s a snore at the left side of the table; Nia had been asleep this entire time. They all take that as their cue to wrap up and return to the inn to finally get some sleep of their own. Pyra gives Mòrag a sympathetic pat to her shoulder before she and Brighid head into their room.

“We’re all in this together. Babypon might’ve gotten attached to you specifically, but…” There, Pyra seems to run out of words, and her face flushes as Mòrag raises a brow expectantly. “I- I’m sorry. You just look really stressed, is all.”

“It’s not your fault, nor anyone else’s,” Mòrag sighs. “I chose to involve myself in this child’s affairs, and I intend to see it through to the end.”

“That’s awfully kind of you,” Pyra gently smiles. “If it were anyone else, I get the feeling they would have walked right past the baby or immediately tried to hand her off to someone else to deal with.”

“I _am_ the Empire’s Special Inquisitor. It’s part of my job to offer a lending hand wherever it’s needed.”

The corners of Pyra’s eyes crinkle and she pats Mòrag’s shoulder again. “You’re also just that kind of person. Well, good night, Mòrag, Brighid. Babypon. We’ll see you in the morning.”

In spite of her disdain for the baby and her persisting bad mood, Brighid smiles as well. Maybe she even feels a bit less resentful towards the Nopon when she looks at it, now that it’s sleeping peacefully in Mòrag’s arms and not crying.

“Pyra’s absolutely right, you know.”

“About other bystanders avoiding involvement?”

“Hah…” Brighid shakes her head and chuckles. “Yes. That part.”

She hesitantly extends a hand to carefully stroke the top of Babypon’s head. Mòrag’s eyes are soft beneath the metal visor of her cap, Brighid notices, but she says nothing more about it.

 

* * *

 

She wakes up to the sound of Babypon softly crying.

Brighid automatically scowls in her groggy state, turning over on her side. She can see Mòrag sitting on the edge of her bed, back turned, her head bowed.

“Shhh…” Mòrag softly shushes Babypon, cradling her. “You’ll wake Brighid.”

Too late for that, but Brighid pretends to be fast asleep when Mòrag glances over her shoulder (it’s not that difficult when her eyes are already closed). The way she murmurs to the Nopon so gently like that is so…

Mòrag stands. “Come. We’ll have an early breakfast, then.”

Brighid waits for Mòrag to close the door behind her before letting out a long sigh, staring up at the ceiling. It’s frankly ridiculous how even the smallest things Mòrag can do, like comforting a baby Nopon, can set her heart aflutter. Frankly, utterly ridiculous. How could she possibly go back to sleep, now?

She gets dressed and leaves the room, noting that the sun hasn’t even begun to rise yet. A few Nopon are walking around and the food stalls are open as usual, but it’s otherwise quiet, a stark contrast to the usual noisy bustle of Goldmouth during the daytime.

It doesn’t take long for her to find Mòrag nodding off at a table in the corner of Rumbletum Canteen, pinching off pieces of bread to feed to Babypon. She isn’t even wearing her coat or armor pieces, and there are more than a few strands of hair out of place. Mòrag’s head snaps up to something close to full alertness when she sees Brighid approaching.

“Ah— I hadn’t realized you were awake.”

“I was going to say the same thing.” She takes the seat beside Mòrag. “Did you sleep at all, Lady Mòrag?”

Mòrag hesitates. She knows she can’t lie to Brighid.

“… No,” she admits, cradling her face in one hand as Babypon eats from the other hand. “I slept for an hour before Babypon became restless and roused me. I was afraid the noise would disturb you, so I’ve been trying to lull her to sleep since then.”

“I could have moved to the other room, with the girls.”

“And left me all alone?” Mòrag smiles crookedly, her hand sliding down her face to support her chin, elbow propped against the table. “How cold of you, Brighid.”

“Mamapon?” Babypon tugs at Mòrag’s fingers. She pinches off another piece of bread and the Nopon happily goes back to nibbling at the food.

“It’s amazing how quickly she’s gotten used to you,” Brighid says. “But not terribly surprising.”

“Do I really seem like the motherly type to you.”

“Honestly? No,” Brighid chuckles. “But people are always learning. You say it yourself all the time— you’re still learning, too.”

Mòrag is silent for a while, watching Babypon take little nibbles of the bread from the bits she holds between her thumb and forefinger.

“… How would you feel about adopting children, Brighid?”

“Sorry— _what?_ ”

“I— never mind. Ignore me. I’m much too tired. Please, ignore me.”

“Mamapon!” The Nopon hugs Mòrag’s hand with her wings, then looks to Brighid. Brighid automatically recoils and braces herself for another bout of crying, but Babypon curiously continues to stare.

“… Dadapon?”

Oh, no.

“ _What._ ” Mòrag groans and places her face against the table, instantly defeated.

“Dadapon!” Babypon smiles at Brighid.

Brighid slowly places her face in her hands.

 

* * *

 

To the others, it looks as though Mòrag and Brighid are both teetering on the brink of death when they find them in Rumbletum Canteen. Babypon is gleefully jumping up and down on the back of Mòrag’s head, who is still slumped over with her face pressed against the rough hardwood of the table. Brighid’s got her elbows on the table, hands glued to her face, completely still save for the natural flickering of her flames.

“Yikes!” Even Zeke has to wince at the scene, but he’s also stifling laughter. “So the prophecy indeed came true. Even the Flamebringer was no match, in the end… well, then! Who wants to write their obituaries? Anyone? Any takers?”

“Cut it out, Shellhead,” Nia snaps. She strides over and whacks Mòrag on the back none too gently. “Wake up, you! C’mon! Where’s that stiff upper lip you’re so good at keeping, huh?! Don’t tell me you’d let a _baby_ get the upper hand!”

“Mamapon!” Babypon cheers, bouncing on Mòrag’s head. She finally hops off and nudges Brighid’s arm with her round little body. “Dadapon! Dadapon!”

“PFFFTTTT—“ Zeke doubles over. “ _Bwaaaahahaha!!_ Did I hear that right?!”

Mòrag doesn’t move an inch, but she responds. “Yes. You did.”

“Well,” Azurda leans out of Rex’s helmet to see. “This is certainly an… unexpected development.”

“Oh, man.” Rex rubs the back of his neck. “Guess we’d better get right to the search, then. Let’s go, guys!”

“Right.” Mythra’s here this time. She casts a pitying glance over Mòrag and Brighids’ prone forms. “Mòrag, Brighid… you two can sit this one out. I think you guys could use a break.”

“Much appreciated,” is Mòrag’s muffled reply.

“Mamapon! Dadapon!” 

 

* * *

 

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around? I can’t have been the only one thinking that,” Zeke muses. “It’d make more sense for _Mòrag_ to be the Dadapon, and Brighid to be the Mamapon. Yeah?”

“Gah!” Nia rolls her eyes so hard she fears they may fly right out of their sockets. “The joke isn’t funny anymore if you explain it, you goon!”

 

* * *

 

While their friends are so graciously working on the search for the one true Mamapon (and Dadapon, they suppose), Mòrag and Brighid gradually come to. Mostly because Babypon begins to sniffle and softly cry from their lack of responses, but also because other people are beginning to fill the canteen and they have a public image to uphold.

So, naturally, they grab some more food and quickly retreat back to the inn.

“I don’t think anyone noticed us.”

Mòrag sighs. “I would hope not. Could you imagine the rumors, if someone sighted the Special Inquisitor clutching a baby Nopon?”

“Our enemies would no longer fear your name,” Brighid sarcastically says, in spite of herself. In spite of everything, she wearily smiles at both Mòrag and Babypon, briefly touching Mòrag’s cheek then Babypon’s tuft of hair. “But you’re handling this situation splendidly, I must say.”

Mòrag closes her eyes when Brighid’s hand makes contact with her cheek. Then, with her eyes still closed, she hands the Nopon off to Brighid and drops onto the closest bed like a fresh corpse, facedown.

Brighid’s so startled that she doesn’t even protest to being given Babypon. Just like Mòrag from the other day, she holds the Nopon out at arms’ length, now genuinely concerned that her hands may be too hot.

But Babypon seems fine and calmly wriggles, eyes shining brightly at Brighid. “Dadapon!”

“Ugh… I really do wish she would stop calling me that.”

“Mmh.” Mòrag grunts.

“Brighid. _Bri-ghid_. Can you say that instead, child?”

“Dadapon!”

“ _Brighid._ ”

“Dadapon!”

“… Why do Nopon have to be like this?”

“Mmh.” Mòrag grunts again.

 

* * *

 

Evening arrives too quickly and unfortunately without any solid results from the party’s search. At the very least they hear vague word of a pair of Nopon who had left a child in a babysitter’s care to trade somewhere in Uraya just a day before Mòrag had found Babypon, but not much beyond that. It matches up well enough, but without any more information, it’s hard to say.

Dromarch explains this to Mòrag and Brighid as they all eat dinner together at the Canteen. Mòrag absentmindedly feeds pinches of her food to Babypon, seated on her lap. Being able to sleep through the afternoon had done wonders for them; Mòrag no longer looks like she’s about to keel over, and Brighid is even slightly smiling as she watches Mòrag feed the Nopon.

“How about letting Uncle Zeke hold Babypon for a while?” Zeke gestures to Mòrag. “I’ve always wanted to be some lucky kid’s _cool uncle!_ ”

“Yeah, you just want to play with someone who’s closer to your own maturity levels.”

“Hey! That wounds, Pandy!”

“If anyone would be cool uncle, it would be Tora!” Tora interjects. “Tora is fellow Nopon to Babypon, after all!”

“You can be the second uncle. The one that’s way less cool then the first one.” Zeke nods.

“Meh-meh?!”

Mòrag begins to quietly laugh, but catches herself and looks away. No one else but Brighid notices the way the corners of her lips tug downwards, or the way she stares down at Babypon, or the worry beginning to bloom in her eyes.

Isn’t this exactly what Dromarch had warned them about? He, too, silently watches the rest of the group banter about which roles they would fill in this family centered around the baby Nopon, and exchanges a knowing glance with Brighid.

“Anyway, Mòrag!” Zeke slaps a hand down on the table to get her attention. “How about it? I can’t imagine how bored she’s been, cooped up with you all day. Lemme play with her for a while! I’m actually pretty great with kids, believe it or not!”

“I can imagine why, what with you practically being a child yourself.”

“Haha, nice.” Pandoria flashes her a thumbs-up.

“Thank you, Pandoria.”

“Don’t egg each other on…!”

 

* * *

 

Then just like that, another day comes and goes. It’s only their second night as temporary unofficial parents to a nameless baby Nopon, but it feels as though they’ve been doing this much, much longer than that. Mòrag’s Ardainian military training never prepared her for something like this and she can’t remember the last time she felt this exhausted. But, though the second day was long, it was much more bearable. Even Brighid seems to have already grown fonder of the Nopon.

The others had even managed to dig up more information during their search from the day, but right now, Mòrag and Brighid aren’t thinking about that.

“Look at this,” Brighid says with a note of amusement. “She’s spinning.”

Babypon is on the bed, turning and rolling in quick little circles and giggling at the dizzying sensation. She tips over and flails about on her back, but not in the way she’d been flailing during her tantrums from the day before.

Actually, Mòrag wants to slap herself for growing this fond of the child so quickly, but she also knows it couldn’t exactly be helped unless she’d acted completely detached to her. And for someone like her, that’d be impossible, and…

Ah, so that’s what Pyra had meant. Hm.

“Brighid. Have I always been this soft-hearted?” Mòrag is lying on the other bed, looking up at the ceiling.

Brighid doesn’t respond for a deliberately long time. She strokes Babypon’s fur with the back of her hand, and Babypon nuzzles up to her.

“In a sense of the word. That’s just the kind of person you are, Lady Mòrag.”

“I see…”

“I don’t want that part of you to change,” she shakes her head. “You’re tough, and ruthless, but you are also truly a kind person. That’s not a weakness. It’s just another one of your many strengths.”

Mòrag sits up and turns her face away, but Brighid can see how red her ears are. She smiles and pats Babypon.

“You flatter me.”

“You make it easy to.”

“Mamapon! Dadapon!” The baby Nopon squeals, bouncing up and down. Mòrag weakly smiles and moves to the other bed to sit with Brighid, leaning against her as they watch Babypon roll around together.

“Well, I thank you for your kind words, Dadapon.”

“I only speak how I feel, Mamapon.”

 

* * *

 

“MOOMOOOOO—“ A female Nopon is the first to disembark the Titan ship that arrives at the flight deck in the morning. She barrels straight into Mòrag’s greaves before any of them can say anything (Mòrag doesn’t even budge), wailing and flailing her wings. “Muumuu’s baby!! Moomoo!! Is Muumuu’s baby okay-okay?!”

Mòrag crouches down and wordlessly holds the baby Nopon out for Muumuu to take. Another Nopon is running up, panting.

“H-hah, hah, Muumuu too fast! Mohmoh can’t keep up—!”

“Mamapon! Dadapon!”

“Hm! All’s well that ends well.” Zeke scratches his chin. “Who woulda thought the kid’s name is _Moomoo_ , though?”

“Is very respectable Nopon name!” Tora says.

“Thank you! Thank you ever so much!” Muumuu looks up to each of them, the baby Nopon quite contentedly cuddled up to her real mother. “Muumuu just about had heart attack when informant shared terrible news! Babysitter suddenly swallowed by Sardi?! Moomoo left all alone?!”

“We tried so hard to find fastest ship back to Argentum! Forget about trading business!” Mohmoh speaks up. “But great big storm delayed all ships by a day…”

“Ohhhh, Muumuu was this close to swimming all the way over herself!”

“To think that the Special Inquisitor herself looked after Moomoo! What great honor!”

Mòrag nods. “I am pleased to see that this wasn’t a case of negligence. It’s reassuring to know that she has such caring parents.”

“Yes! Thank you, Special Inquisitor! Thank you! How can Muumuu and Mohmoh ever repay you?!”

“There’s no need. Safely reuniting a child with her parents is more than enough of a reward in itself.”

The Nopon cry out more thanks and only leave after Mòrag finally acquiesces to a generous sum of Gold. She awkwardly clutches the bag in her hand as they watch Muumuu and Mohmoh leave with Babypon— Moomoo.

Like Dromarch had said, it was inevitable, but still. Moomoo doesn’t even give them one last look, having fallen asleep in her mother’s arms already.

“Masterpon is crying.”

“Poppi!! A-Am not…!”

That does it; they all laugh, the lingering tension broken. Brighid and Mòrag look to each other, their gazes held together for more than a few seconds. They don’t need to say anything. Mòrag smiles somewhat ruefully and half-shrugs, and Brighid nods. She brushes her fingers down Mòrag’s arm and to her palm, and Mòrag squeezes her hand.

“—Uh, hold on,” Mythra says. “Is anyone else wondering about the Nopon babysitter that got swallowed by a Sardi?”

They’re quiet once more, but the sadness and tension are no longer there. Zeke and Pandoria are grinning, and Rex’s eyes are wide, and Nia’s shaking her head with her arms folded, and Brighid can sense that Mòrag and her tender heart are about to jump right back to it once more.

“Nopon are notoriously resilient, even to the harsh acids inside a monster’s stomach. I would say we have… one more day to find that Sardi before the Nopon inside it expires. What says everyone?” Mòrag looks to each of them.

“Well, duh,” Mythra scoffs. “No one else is gonna do it, so it might as well be us.”

“Excellent. Then let’s get right to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> belated note: thank you to everyone who comments, all of them mean a lot to me!! unfortunately i wasn't able to respond to all of the comments since i left for an overseas trip like.... a day after i had posted Mamapon, but in case anyone checks back on this fic, here's a catchall thanks!!


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